


Wish Me Luck

by RapturesSaviour



Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Foreshadowing, Gay, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, POV First Person, Possibly Unrequited Love, Short One Shot, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 17:03:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17770769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RapturesSaviour/pseuds/RapturesSaviour
Summary: Jack needed to vent out some of his more...intense feelings.And so he did.





	Wish Me Luck

The idea of love had always seemed so appealing.  
To have someone hold you in their arms, cradle you tight and tell you “everything is going to be okay”. To reassure you that life can and will be so much better, that the bad times are just exactly that; A bad time, not forever.  
To feel safe, special, and as though all of your fears and worries could just melt away as long as the love was there. As long as love never gave up on you.  
At least, that was what I had thought. 

Maybe that idea of love had come from fairytales my mother had read to me as a child, a sort of last ditch effort to try and put my restless young mind to sleep. Or maybe it was just my intuition- an innate feeling inside, clawing at my brain and causing a deep yearning from within. 

I however, have finally found out what love truly is.

I wrack my brain constantly, wondering again and again how I ever could have thought it any different- how much of a naïve fool I must had to have been to think the fairytales were real. I can only really blame the fact I'd never experienced it before as the reason I had assumed.

The way he makes me feel is unlike anything I've ever experienced.  
It's...well, it's unlike anything I could have even imagined, really. The word 'love’ abruptly became a muddled puzzle, evident to me nigh immediately that there were, in fact, pieces missing.  
And yet, I can't help these intensities in my chest. My body. My mind. 

Hearing his voice is cathartic, like a violent though soothing surge of electro bolt has run a course through my veins; his Irish brogue so warm and inviting, the way he expresses himself...Someone so charismatic and naturally talented at speaking, it almost feels as though he could talk me into anything. I don't think I'd mind, either. Hell, I suppose that's even been the case so far, all things considered.

I sometimes will catch myself staring intensely at his picture- I had taken one of the posters from Arcadia as I passed through recently. It may be an artist's representation but it's exactly as I had pictured him to look like; tall, handsome, strong jaw...a broad chest, someone with dignity. Someone with strength and determination under his belt. The poster had only heightened the aching in my chest, the way he's positioned so proudly with his hands on his hips and his eyes facing forwards to a hopeful future. A true leader of the people. 

I know he isn't perfect. I even know he's not without fault…  
How could I not? He's surely hurt people before. There's no doubt in my mind about that, especially since he too has been hurt. I felt his pain when I reluctantly watched his wife and child combust before his very eyes.

I felt the anger that interlaced with his voice afterwards, the tone in which he asked- no...demanded, that I kill Andrew Ryan was nothing short of fervently animus as a result. 

I felt it so eminently that I have decided to carry out the deed...Some unexplainable suffocation impedes me if I even attempt to think otherwise. I've accepted that it's what I'm meant to do, even though I've never even dreamed of causing harm to anyone...to anything. That was of course until I had experienced the plane crash and found my way here in Rapture.

There was no other choice to survive. 

I've become so accustomed to the gore now that I wonder if, killing Mr. Ryan will damage my morality...Or if it will truly be a good thing. The thing that Rapture needs. All I know is, the last thing I want to become is one of them. 

I am aware it's been a short amount of time since I've arrived, a week at most...Perhaps only a few days. I'm exhausted. It's easy to lose track of time when you're terrified and alone in a place filled with horrors, both people and creations that only wish for your death. 

I find myself feeling guilty for latching on to the comfort that Atlas provides me. He didn't ask for this...He didn't ask for these feelings. He's a married man, with a child, who he had just lost. It feels selfish of me to even dare indulge, to fantasize, to ponder…  
Yet it's the only thing that keeps me going.  
Meeting the man who's been here with me through this entire traumatic nightmare fills me with a sense of belonging, the will to push forward and stay alive, but most of all it consumes me with...Love. 

As I had said, it was not what I had expected. It came to me without warrant. As much as Atlas didn't ask for it, it hardly seems I did either.

I did not ask to fall from the air, plummeting into the ocean in a fiery blaze, a wonder to me how I survived. I did not ask to find my way into Rapture, though it hardly seems an accident. I didn't even ask to meet this man. Rather, he came to me.  
I am the last pawn to his game of chess, and in truth I could hardly mind. If it means we can escape this hellish place unscathed, then there is no choice. I will do it for us. For a possible future...One where I may make him happy, just as he has saved my life. Selfish as it may be, it's all I have. He's all I have.

...

My time has run out...Atlas is growing impatient while I assemble this 'E.M.P’ bomb. Little does he know I have taken advantage of this short moment to write out my feelings. I intend to approach him with them when the time comes; I'm not a poet, by any means, but I wish to be elaborate and I genuinely hope he will reciprocate in the future when we arrive back on the surface, after he has had time to heal from his losses.

I don't know how things will pan out from here... I'm scared- terrified even, and I dread the meeting between myself and Mr. Ryan face to face.  
I have a harrowing feeling something nefarious comes my way.

Wish me luck. 

Signed,  
Jack Wynand


End file.
